Adolescence
by little princess
Summary: Trunks is entering his teenage years with all the challenges a teenage boy meets. On top of that his relationship with his parents, especially his father, is going downhill fast. Why do they keep fighting all the time?
1. 1: Gimme a break!

**Adolescence**

1: Gimme a break!

She called him an asshole.

He called her a bitch.

She called him a piece of shit.

He called her a good-for-nothing whore.

With a sigh, Trunks ran a hand through his purple hair. They were at it again, his parents. He didn't understand either of them. They were always fighting about some thing or another. He had no idea what it was about this time and he did not care to know. He just wished they would stop already! He was having a hard time focussing on his schoolwork and he had a history test due tomorrow. Could they not for one day give him some peace and quiet?

A door slammed. In the room next to his the sound of a baby wailing started up. Great. Now they had woken Bra with their bickering and sniping and throwing stuff. He heard stomping footsteps on the stairs and recognised them as his mother's. A few moments later he heard the door to the baby room creak and his mother walking in while making shushing noises.

"Oh, poor little girl." He heard his mother say to the child. "Did daddy wake you up again with that horrible temper of his?"

Trunk gritted his teeth. It had not been his father who had woken the child, it had been his mother's door-slamming that had woken her.

"Come here, mommy's gonna make it alright." He could hear her starting to pace the room next door, most likely carrying the still-wailing child in an effort to calm her. Damn her! She always talked like that, like his dad was the big bad man and like she was the good Samaritan who would make everything alright. She did it to him and he had believed it for years, mainly because his father seldom bothered to correct her. But he knew better now. When two people fought, two people were to blame! How long would it be until his baby sister would find that out for herself, he wondered.

A weird snap brought Trunks back to the situation in his own room. When he looked down at his hands he saw that he had snapped the pencil he'd been using in half. Fuck the test, he couldn't concentrate anyway! He angrily dropped the two halves of the pencil and walked over to the window. It was getting dark outside. He was not allowed to go out on school nights, especially not without permission, but he was almost fourteen and he could take care of himself. Besides, his father had flown off minutes ago and would not notice him leaving.

Trunks opened the window and without a second thought he jumped out and flew off into the darkness. He was going to get into a whole damn lot of trouble if they found out he was gone, but right now he didn't care. He had to get away from that woman who was trying to make his sister believe she was the angel and the father was the devil. He had to get away from the house that always held so much tension from their constant fights. He had to get away.

-.-

So what now?

He was miles away from his parents' house in the middle of nowhere and was at a loss for what to do. He had enjoyed the silence for a few minutes, but now it was starting to feel weird. He was not used to being alone. Even though they lived in a big house, there was always someone around, either one of his parents or a nanny when his mother was working and his father was off doing Dende knew what.

He'd asked what his father did when he was gone once. "That's non of your damned business, brat." He'd spat.

Brat.

Even though he was almost a man his father still humiliated him by calling him 'brat'. If he said it with affection, Trunks might not have minded to much, but the word was never said like that. His father only ever spoke the word as if he was speaking to something that wasn't even really worth his attention.

And if his mother heard the man speak like that, they'd get into another fight.

Trunks shook his head. He did not want to think of the situation back at home. He needed something to take his mind off his parents' behaviour. He'd go into the city. If he hid his energy there, his father should not be able to sense it, not with all those people around. Not unless he was specifically looking for him there.

Thursday night. The stores were open tonight. They would be for another fourty minutes or so. That was good. Trunks landed in some alley and quietly walked out into the main street. He buried his hands in his pockets. Damn. He'd forgotten to bring money. Now all he could do was roam around here, looking stuff, unable to buy himself so much as a drink. With a sigh, he began walking with the flow, checking out the goods in the store.

They were displaying an image of a new game computer that would be coming out next week. 'Pre-order now!' the sign read. Trunks would have that thing the day before it would actually come out. He'd let it slip to his mother that he was interested in the console and she'd ordered it for him that same night, after he'd walked in on a fight between her and _him_.

That was how things usually went. He could get whatever he wanted if he mentioned it at the right time and that was a technique he had perfected and exploited for years. But the one thing he really wanted he knew he would never get. His mom and dad would never be getting along like a normal couple. Even Goten's parents didn't fight half as much as his parents did. That was why he always liked going over to Goten's house. Even if there was a fight, which he witnessed only once in a blue moon, it was mainly one-sided and quickly resolved as Goku tended to give in rather easily. If only either of his parents had that quality.

Great, now he was still thinking of his parents. He wanted to be distracted, that was why he had come here. So, what now? He would just enter the first store on his right and take it from there. He may not have money, but it didn't cost anything to just look.

He decided to make it the second store, as the first store sold baby stuff. That only reminded him of his sister, which was sure to remind him of his parents. Honestly, why _had_ they made another baby? The second store was a clothing store. He had not had much interest in clothing before. His mother had bought whatever she wanted him to wear and he'd been fine with it until recently. Lately his mom was picking out stuff he didn't always like too much and he wanted to start choosing his own clothes.

He would be going to high school soon and the kids in his class were talking about clothing money they were getting from their parents so they could buy their own clothes. He was thinking about asking his parents for that. If he did so at the right time, when his mother was feeling guilty again, he was sure he would get whatever amount he asked for. But what should he ask? What did clothes cost, really?

He headed to the teenager section and started rummaging through the racks. There were few kids his age, he noticed. Most were a couple of years older. Ignoring that fact, he started looking at pants and shirts and their price tags.

He made some simple calculations in his head. He couldn't go with the cheap stuff of course. The kids at school would definitely make fun of him if he wore the simple pants and shirts. They knew his parents were rich and they expected him to come to school in better jeans than just the average stuff. He had no desire to let himself fall victim to the bullies, especially not since he could not even give them a satisfying punch without getting them killed.

Would two hundred be enough? For pants and shirts it would be, but what about the rest? He would also need shoes, socks, jackets and accessories. And he wanted a cell-phone. Every kid in his class seemed to have one. That jerk Billy even had two –one for his parents to call him on which he usually turned off and one he used for his friends. Trunks had never had pocket money to buy such things. His mother had always bought him everything he wanted.

All of that considered he did not think two hundred would be enough. More like two-fifty or perhaps three hundred. Jackets and shoes did not need much replacing unless he started growing already, but they were more expensive than pants and shirts. Three hundred would have to do.

"Dear customers!" Trunks jumped at the sudden voice sounding over the intercom. "It is near closing time. Please proceed to the counters to make your purchases."

That time already? Trunks looked at his watch. Yes, it was already half an hour past his bedtime. He didn't think his parents would notice, though. When his father flew off he could be gone for hours at a time and his mother was usually too busy with her daughter or herself to check up on him. Still, he had that test tomorrow and he should get home before his father did. If he sensed him flying back, there would be hell to pay an the last thing he wanted was to see that man right now.

He made it out of the store and headed into an ally that looked dark and lonely enough that he could fly up from there. Unfortunately, when he entered far enough he saw there was a woman wrapped in rags, watching him come closer. He was about to step back to find another alley when she spoke in a cracked voice. "Now wait up, dear. What's the hurry?"

He turned back to her and gave her a good look. His eyes could make out the worn features on her dirty face easily once he allowed some light from the streets to flow past him, illuminating her. He could see she missed a few teeth and her smile was all wrong. Her hair looked like it had not been washed in weeks and she smelled like that as well.

"Come, come, a handsome young man like you all alone in these parts?" The woman stepped closer. Trunks raised an eyebrow, but he was sure it was too dark for the woman to see. "Come here, boy. I'll guide you to safer parts." She held out a hand.

Trunks scowled at her. "Go away" He said roughly, not in the mood to deal with some stupid, pathetic lowlife right now.

"Now now, that's not very polite." The woman was still advancing on him.

Trunks growled. "Stay away from me, woman." He hissed as he turned around. But just as he started back to the streets, her hand grabbed his shirt and pulled held him back. "Fuck you!" He sneered as he turned around to knock her hand away, but he did not see the knife in her hands quickly enough. He felt how the blade made contact with his skin and instinctively he used his ki to throw her off. Then, without hesitation he took to the air. To hell if she saw him fly. He was inclined to send a blast at her, but that would kill her and that was illegal. So let her watch him fly. Who would believe an old bat like that anyways?

Trunks barely noticed the cut on his arm as he flew as high as he could comfortably without choking from lack of oxygen. He did not wear a jacket, but he did not get cold. He simply adjusted his energy to keep him warm enough. All too soon his house came into view and he lowered himself to the level of his room. His window was still open, waiting for him to fly in. He landed on the window sill and noticed just too late that there was already a presence in his room, waiting for him.


	2. 2: Hi dad, hi mom

2: Hi dad, hi mom

"So, the brat has finally decided to grace us with his presence again." The words were spoken with a sneering tone and it served to make Trunks' anger at everything flare up immediately. He merely glanced at his father sitting on his bed with his arms crossed and an angry look on his face and then decided to pointedly ignore him while he started putting away his homework.

"Face me when I speak to you!" He heard the growl in his father's voice and knew the man meant business, but he had no desire to give in to his wishes right now. The prince always expected everybody to jump at his command, which was often the reason for the fights between his parents in the first place. Trunks was feeling more and more rebellious lately but usually did not dare disobey. He knew the consequences.

Tonight was different somehow. He was angry, but also strangely calm. Was that what it was like when you were a adult? Continuing to ignore his father, he calmly started packing the books he would need for school tomorrow in his backpack, keeping his back to Vegeta.

"Are you challenging me, brat?" He could feel his father's agitation fill the room to a density that nearly choked him.

"My name is Trunks." He answered shortly, still not bothering to turn around. He could feel his father's ki fall drastically and he let his own fall along with it, keeping it just under that of his father. He knew the drill, his father was pressing his dominance on him to make sure he still accepted it.

The moment his ki would shoot above that of his father was the moment the situation would escalate. He'd learned that lesson at a young age. His father was the one in charge, so however he kept his ki, when you were in his presence, you kept your ki below his. Normally adjusting his ki became naturally to him, but Trunks had to focus this evening to keep it low.

"I'll name you whatever I want, _brat_." The last word was spoken with disgusting emphasis. It made Trunks want to vomit. "I demand an explanation for you running off like that right now and it'd better be a satisfying one!"

Trunks turned around to face his father now. "What do _you_ care?" He answered quietly, still holding on to that strange calm that was over him. He was as tall as his father was if you did not count the hair standing up straight and he was not finished growing yet. He was young and full of strength while his father was in his late fourties and slowly getting old. Trunks had noticed his father didn't advance as quickly in his training anymore as he used to. "I know my conception was the biggest mistake you ever made. You never wanted me. You've told me that often enough."

His father hissed dangerously. 'You're only making it worse for yourself, boy. Answer my-"

"You never notice my comings and goings," Trunks continued, anger slowly siphoning through the calm. "You never know when I have something going on, you damn well need no explanation this time. If only you were half the father Goku is-" He knew it was the wrong thing to say even before he said it and he knew the punch would come. He'd been waiting for it. Within an instant his ki had flared up to well above his father's and he stopped the fist before it could hit him in the gut. "Don't you dare." He growled.

He'd never reacted like that before and the second it took his father to figure out what was happening was enough for Trunks to push the fist away. He wanted to hit back, but kept himself from doing so. He would not lower himself to this man's level. Instead he straightened up and spoke.

"You try hitting me once more and I'll call child protection services." He threatened. Vegeta's eyes narrowed dangerously and he opened his mouth to speak, but Trunks continued on in a louder voice, anger dangerously clear now. "They'll take me away, you know! They'll do it and they'll take Bra as well and then we'll never have to listen to your detestable demands again!"

"Is that what you want, brat?" Vegeta replied angrily. "Well, if you want to get away from me so badly, then why in the hell did you bring your ass back here tonight? You should have just stayed out there with the rest of the filth!"

Filth. Another thing his father liked to call him whenever he failed to do something his father told him to do. filth. Or lowlife, though he usually reserved that term for Goku or Goten.

He was about to say something in return when the door opened and his mother interrupted. "Trunks, where have you- You're hurt!"

He'd already forgotten about the scratch from that woman's blade. Such a minor injury barely registered in the first place. "I'm fine." He answered, lowering his ki to a level less dangerous to his mother. It made his father relax a little as well. "Now leave me alone, both of you! This is _my_ room."

"We'll leave you alone in _our_ house when _we're_ done with you, Trunks!" His mother spoke at the same time his father bellowed.

"I'm your father and you'll not tell me what to do!"

Next door, Bra started wailing again.

He had to get out of here!

His window was still open and his father had moved away from it. He'd forgotten his wallet the previous time, but he would not make the same mistake twice! It was in his school bag, which he grabbed before heading for the window.

"Oh no you don't!" His mother caught on to his intentions quickly. "If you leave this house right now, you don't even have to _think_ about coming back here, young man!"

Ignoring his mother's words, he slung the bag over his shoulder and flew off.

"No! You go after him and get him back here, Vegeta!" He heard his mother tell his father.

"No." His father answered annoyed. "The brat can stay away for the rest of his pathetic life for all I care."

His mother was not pleased with that answer, but Trunks was too far away to make out her words. In any case he wasn't listening anymore. He was just focussing on getting the hell away from them.

* * *

><p>-princess<p> 


	3. 3: You're welcome

3: You're welcome

It was the second time that night that he found himself outside on his own with no clue as to where he should go. He was hovering in mid-air after having flown for half an hour in a general direction while the whole conversation played over in his mind.

His mother had said he didn't have to come back if he left now. His father had said he could stay away for the rest of his life. The words cut him worse than a knife to his heart could ever hurt him. Such great, loving parents he had.

He lowered himself to the ground, but shot back up again when his feet hit water. The ocean? No, he was hovering above a lake. He could see lights in the distance. He dried his feet as well as he could by directing his ki there and hovered over to the nearest land where he sat himself down, looking out over the lake to think.

It was getting late. He was usually asleep by now, but he did not think he could sleep just yet. Too much was going on. What exactly had happened back home? The moment he'd sensed his father waiting for him he'd know he could not avoid trouble. But at the same time he'd told himself that he refused to be treated like a little kid any longer. He was nearly fourteen and he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He was responsible enough to choose his own bedtime and to go out on school nights if he wanted. He knew how much sleep he needed before school and he knew how much time he needed to study to keep his grades up.

The reason his grades were falling lately was because since his baby sister was born his parents' arguing had increased tenfold. His mother did not think his father gave the girl enough attention and his father said he'd have nothing to do with a weak baby that could not even carry her own weight. Or he'd argue that he was already doing a hell of a lot more for the girl than he'd ever done for Trunks –which made Trunks feel as if he was causing the argument- and that the woman should be glad he was sticking around at all.

In the meantime they did not realise that they were yelling at each other so loud and so often that Trunks could not concentrate on school anymore. They were always treating him like he was some imbecile, his mother as much as his father, though in her own stupid way.

The moment he'd sensed his father waiting for him in his room all high-and-mighty he decided he wouldn't let them treat him like that any longer. He knew he had to tell his parents sooner or later that he was better at taking care of himself than they were and he knew they would not like hearing it. He'd planned to do that.

Had he? He hadn't really come around to saying that. At least he didn't think either of his parents had gotten the message. And now he couldn't go back home because he wasn't welcome anymore.

He had to find a bed, though. He didn't have much money, never having been given any pocket money other than to buy lunch at school. He didn't think he could afford a hotel room. He didn't even know if minors were allowed to stay alone in a hotel room. His ID clearly stated his identity and any hotel that housed the heir to Capsule Corporations would notify his mother immediately anyways. So where could he go?

He ruled out his grandparents immediately. They would call his parents even if they promised they wouldn't. Goten's place would be no good either. He was sure Goku wouldn't phone his mother, but Chichi might. Goten would let him sneak in, but his parents would suspect that and his mother might call them to see if they knew where Trunks was. Goku would not lie to her.

He'd have to think this through. He should go somewhere low-profile that his parents didn't know well enough to consider calling, but someone who would let him in. He considered Krillin and Yamcha. Krillin might be a little too good to suit Trunks. He would let him in, but Krillin had a daughter and he might get all sentimental thinking about what he would want Bulma to do if his daughter ever ran off to her. Yamcha, on the other hand, was not really seeing anyone as far as Trunks knew. He definitely did not have kids, so he might not think like Krillin would.

He only saw the man a couple of times a year, but Yamcha always seemed to like more than just what he was expected to. Trunks knew of the past relationship between his mother and Yamcha. That might be a problem. But Yamcha also disliked his father and that might just be something Trunks could use to his advantage.

Yamcha did not live too far from here. If he ran he could keep his ki low so his father wouldn't track him down and he would make it well before midnight. That would just have to do, he decided.

It was indeed well before midnight when he stood before the door he was quite sure would open up to Yamcha's place. He adjusted his backpack on his shoulders and took a deep breath before he knocked.

"Uh, just a moment." It was indeed Yamcha and he sounded startled. Trunks stepped back and waited quietly, listening to the rummaging noises coming from inside and then the door opened. Yamcha looked startled when he saw who it was. "Trunks?"

Trunks looked down, suddenly feeling nervous. Was this really not a mistake? "Can I stay here tonight?" He asked quietly.

"Uh- well, I don't know." Yamcha sounded uneasy. "Do your parents know you're here?"

"They kicked me out." Trunks mustered a guilty look as he looked up. "I can't go home tonight. Can I please stay here? It'll just be one night, I promise."

"Well, I guess I could call your mom and see if it's okay?"

"No you can't!" Trunks said quickly. "I got into a terrible fight with my dad and if he finds me before he has time to cool down it'll be the end of me!"

He could feel the scales tipping his way as Yamcha hesitated at his words. Finally he stepped aside. "Let's talk about this inside, alright?"

Grateful, Trunks stepped inside Yamcha led him to the living room and Trunks sat down on the couch, placing his school bag on the floor next to his feet.

Yamcha put a glass of water in front of him and got a beer out for himself. "So, why don't you tell me what's going on first?" He sat down in a chair opposite of him.

"Like I said," Trunks answered. "I got into a fight with my dad. It was stupid really, but now he's so angry he said I should just stay away."

"Right." Yamcha sipped his beer. Trunks knew the man had a very good grasp of what his father was like in the negative sense. "And you think that if you give him time to cool down he won't be so horrible to face?"

"Yeah." Trunks answered. "Like I said, just give him time to sleep on it for a night. Please?"

"Well... you can stay here I guess..." Yamcha said slowly, thinking it over. "But I kinda do wanna at least send some message to your mom to let her know you're okay."

"No!" Trunks stood up so quickly

"She's gotta be pretty worried about you, Trunks. I know her."

Damn it, this was not going like he wanted it to go! Yamcha was still too loyal to his mother after all. "If you do that, I'll know and I'll get out of here."

"And where will you go then?" Yamcha asked, surprised by this declaration

Trunks shrugged. "Don't know. But I wouldn't tell if you were letting _them_ know. If my mom finds out, so will my dad." Surely he wouldn't want Trunks to be out there on his own, Dende knew where, right?

"Right." Yamcha had to think it over some more. "Alright." He finally decided. "You can spend the night here. But I _am_ calling your mom in the morning, so she doesn't worry about you more than she has to, got it?"

That sounded reasonable. Tomorrow was far away and there would be school first anyway. She wouldn't make a commotion at his school. "That's fine." He answered, sitting down again and feeling quite relieved. "Thanks."

"No problem."

Silence fell while man and teenager sipped their drinks quietly. Trunks had a place to spend the night now and he wouldn't have to worry about facing either of his parents until tomorrow after school. That should give them enough time to calm down. In the meantime he could sleep quietly for a change. He wouldn't have to worry about waking up in the middle of the night because his parents got into another fight again and he wouldn't be greeted by irritable people in the morning either, complaining that breakfast wasn't ready yet or that someone didn't help out enough with the baby.

For one night, at least, Trunks could go to sleep without worrying about any of that. What a relief.

Out of the blue, and to break the awkward silence, Trunks suddenly said "I'm becoming a man."

Yamcha blinked and needed a few seconds before he replied "Uhh- I suppose so."

Trunks stared at his drink intently when he asked "Yamcha, what does it mean to become a man?"

A nervous chuckle escaped the older man. "Eh- heh, shouldn't that be something you should discuss with your dad?"

"I tried." Trunks sighed. "I asked him why it's sometimes wet in my bed when I wake up and he just said 'congratulations, you're becoming a man.'" He said the quoted part in a voice that was nothing like his father's. "Like that was any help."

"Ah ehm, well-" Yamcha sounded nervous. "I guess it means that –ehm- your body, it's- it's changing. L-like growing up."

"But I've been growing since I was a baby." Trunks answered, not really understanding why he would now all of a sudden become a man.

"Ah well, ehm, it kinda means... You see... When they say your body is -you know- growing up, they kinda mean that eh... heh. You know." He sounded really nervous now. Was it that bad when your body was 'growing up'? "You should ask your mother then."

"No way." Trunks frowned at him. "I'm not talking to her about that stuff, that's gross!"

"Well, I guess then... Lemme think about it for a little, okay? I never had kids so I kinda never prepared to have 'the talk' with someone."

Trunks said nothing. 'The talk?' He'd heard that Billy mention it. His parents had wanted to do 'the talk' with him and he'd said he already knew everything and they'd left him alone. At the time, Trunks had been wondering what 'the talk' was about. He'd figured out from the context that it was something sex-related, but he doubted it was if this was 'the talk'. He wasn't asking Yamcha how to have sex. Right?

"Okay, I think I got something now." Yamcha took a deep breath and Trunks looked at him expectantly. "When your body is growing up, it means it's getting ready to do... grown-up stuff. Like a woman starts developing breasts and getting her period and a man –well, a man's body grows up and it starts practicing. For -you know- 'the deed'. And it does so at night too."

The deed? "Oh, you mean like I'm getting a boner?" He'd heard about that.

By now Yamcha had turned quite a dark shade of red. "Ah -heh, well... yeah. And the part that –you know- comes after."

Trunks frowned at that. So becoming a man meant his body was practicing to have sex. "Okay." Sounded acceptable. It was annoying though. "Can I do something to stop it? The part after?"

"Well, not really." He swallowed. "Hey, you want another drink?"

Trunks shook his head. "I'm good, thanks." He answered. "And thanks for explaining." It made a whole lot more sense now. He wished his father had just explained it to him, though. If it was so simple as that his body was training, then why couldn't the man have said anything? "I think I'll be heading to bed now."

"The guest room's ready." Yamcha answered, relieved that the weird conversation was over now.

Trunks got up and grabbed his bag. "You're not gonna call my parents when I'm asleep?" He asked, just to be sure.

"I swear." Yamcha said, bringing a hand to his chest. "I'll give all of you some time to calm down."

"Alright." Yawning, Trunks started for the guest bedroom.

* * *

><p>-princess<p> 


	4. 4: Where are you?

4: Where are you?

What had gotten into her son? For the umpteenth time that night Bulma looked out the window, half expecting to see the light Trunks emitted when he flew back home. But for the umpteenth time the light wasn't there.

She'd told him he didn't have to come back if he left now, but it had been an empty threat, meant as a last resort to make him stay. He hadn't reacted to it the way she thought he would and now her son was out there somewhere, alone. Where could he be? She'd phoned Chichi immediately after Trunks was out of sight and Chichi had promised to call if she heard anything. Then Bulma had proceeded calling some of Trunks' other friends, but he was not anywhere and one woman even got mad at her for calling at such time of the night! The indecency! Her son was gone and she was worried sick!

Vegeta had just let him go. He could've easily stopped his son, prevented him from leaving, but he had not lifted a finger. He'd flat out refused to go after him and just left the room as if nothing at all was wrong.

Bulma glanced at her husband next to her on the couch, who was concentrating on some wrestling program on tv. She knew he cared. She knew he loved his son, even if he was quite crude in showing it. But she just didn't understand. Why had he not gone after him? Did he really think it was alright for a thirteen-year-old to be out alone at this hour? What had happened in that room before she'd stepped in? What had been said? And how had her son gotten hurt?

"You worry too much, woman." Vegeta said roughly, eyes still on the tv.

Bulma realised she was again staring at the window, searching for that light that wouldn't come. She looked at her husband. "He's my son."

"Oh, so now he's _your_ son?"

"Don't start with me, Vegeta."

But her husband seemed to ignore her. "He is strong. He is a super saiyan. He will not fall to the petty creatures that inhabit this planet."

"He's never been out on his own this late." Bulma answered. "Super saiyan or no, he is also a teenager. Do you remember when you were that age? Who knows what kind of trouble he can get himself into."

She knew a little about when Vegeta had been that age. Life under Freeza was never easy but for an adolescent who wanted to grow up and be on his own it was much worse. Freeza had not tolerated disobedience.

There was no Freeza here on earth, but that did not mean there was no trouble to be found. Bulma had run off to seek adventure when she'd been barely older than Trunks was now and she'd found it. It had nearly killed her on several occasions. Trunks might be able to face those kind of dangers, but what about the other dangers? What if he got in touch with alcohol and prostitutes? What if he started doing drugs? There was so much her teenage son had yet to learn.

"He will be fine. He's overdue for a lesson in humility." Vegeta simply told her.

Humility? Bulma wondered if he indeed needed a lesson in that. The boy had grown quiet the past year. She'd noticed he started turning into himself more and more, especially since Bra was born. She'd thought he'd just been thoughtful. He was old enough to want to be on his own more and the baby needed a lot of her parents' attention. She'd thought he understood that and that he kept to himself for that reason.

Also she realised that he was becoming a teenager and teenagers did not always want to share everything with their mother. She'd found that hard sometimes, when he wasn't so ready to tell her what he'd been up to anymore, but she'd tried as best as she could to accept it. Her little boy was growing up.

Bulma sighed and leaned into her husband who accepted her touch easily now. She realised she'd never really gotten around to asking what was going on in Trunks' mind lately. She'd been so busy with Bra and her work that she'd just accepted her son's retreat and had not asked the questions a good mother should have asked.

"I'm a lousy mother." She realised out loud.

"You are a fine mother." Vegeta replied automatically.

"I told him not to come back."

"He'll be back." Vegeta said. "Where the hell else will he go?"

"I just wish he wouldn't have gone out at all."

"He'll be back, woman." She felt him put an arm around her and he pulled her against him. "Instead of worrying over him, you should be thinking of how to punish him when he does."

"Punish him?" She just wanted him home! She didn't want to scare him away with punishment.

"Yes, punishment." Vegeta said. "The way he behaved tonight is clearly unacceptable. He ran away twice."

He had, hadn't he? "I guess you're right." But Bulma didn't feel like she wanted to punish him at all. She just wanted to put him to bed and watch over him while he slept like she'd done when he was just a toddler.

"Of course I'm right, woman."

"Can't you just reach out to him, see if you can feel him?" She pleaded tiredly with her husband.

"He needs to come back on his own." Vegeta answered simply.

"But you can check up on him, right? Just to see if he's okay? He doesn't have to know you're doing it, right?"

"Our son is fine, woman."

"Just check up on him, please."

"If he has not returned in a day I will bring him back personally."

"A whole day? You're leaving him out there on his own for a whole day?"

"Have some faith in him, woman."

-.-

Finally. The woman had fallen asleep and it seemed to hold this time. Vegeta continued staring at the tv without really seeing anything. He'd followed his son's ki until the boy turned it down. Vegeta knew it hadn't been dropped because he was in danger. He had not sensed any danger. The boy just clearly did not want to be 'checked up' on.

He had no idea what was going on in the mind of his son. He'd never been particularly good at it, but for some reason he just couldn't seem to reach the boy at all lately. When the brat was still young and he had taught him how to fight they had been in sync, they had bonded like saiyans did. The boy had learned to follow his father as any boy should and he had been satisfied with that.

_My conception was the biggest mistake you ever made!_

It had been a mistake back then. He'd been attracted to Bulma and somewhere along the like they had both let their guards slip. He might have mentioned it once or twice when the boy was younger, that he had not been planned –that he had been stuck with him- but surely the boy would know better by now?

_You never wanted me!_

Then where had that come from? The boy knew Vegeta did not give voice to his emotions. He was a Saiyan, for crying out loud! He'd been raised with the idea that having emotional attachments was a weakness and the boy had never voiced a word that said he did not understand or that he wanted change. Why change something that seemed to work?

_You never know when I have something going on!_

That was his wife's department. She dealt with whatever was going on with him and it had worked for years. Then why would the brat all of a sudden throw that back in his face? The brat knew damned well that Vegeta would be no good at that kind of sentimental stuff.

_I'll call child protection services and they'll take me away!_

He didn't know what to do with that. Child protection services. His son was a saiyan, for crying out loud, not some weak, frail human! He didn't beat him that much and only if he really deserved it. He only hit his son when he had crossed a hard border and even then he never went too far. He could take whatever Vegeta gave him and that had made Vegeta proud. His son was not afraid of a little punishment now and then. He took it like a man, like a saiyan warrior. He took it just the way he should.

But not tonight. Tonight he'd fought back. Vegeta had been so surprised by the response that he had not continued on. His son had crossed the line he knew never to cross and he had not stood for the beating he deserved. He had been insolent, childish, hateful. What the hell had gotten into him? And how the fuck was Vegeta going to get it out if he would not stand for a beating he perfectly deserved?

_If only you were half the father Goku is__._

That brat had better come back within twenty-four hours, or there would be hell to pay if Vegeta had to actually go and find him.

* * *

><p><em>-princess<em>

I had this whole part about Yamcha's thoghts in here, but I decided to scrap it as it did not seem to be really important. He's not a main character of the fiction. It made the chapter a little shorter, but I hope you don't mind. From what I read many people who like the Briefs family don't care much for Yamcha. If I am wrong, please let me know and I'll see if I can write some of his thoughts into the next chapter!


	5. 5: Avoiding the inevitable

5: Avoiding the inevitable

He knew he could not stop his parents from fighting. He wished he could, but they had been fighting all his life. His grandmother told him that it was the reason they were together. They constantly challenged each other and that seemed to be what they liked. Trunks did not see it as a challenge. A challenge was a fight where he actually had to work to win. A challenge was a sparring match between him and Goten. His parents weren't challenging each other, they were yelling at each other. And it drove him crazy.

He'd fallen asleep pretty much the moment his head had hit the pillow, but now he was wide awake. Outside the sun was about to show its face. Soon Yamcha would wake up and he would call his mother. That meant that soon he'd have to face his parents. Would they have cooled down yet? To be honest Trunks doubted it. Perhaps his mother would be worried, but his father might be pissed off even more than he had been last night.

He wondered how much the beating would hurt this time. Surely quite a lot. Trunks had defied his father like he had never done before and that had to warrant a beating worse than he'd ever had before.

He sat up in his bed and pulled his knees to his chest, hugging them with his arms. He wished he could skip today and move straight on to tomorrow. Then the beating would be done with and he would be able to lock himself in his room and just try to ignore the fighting.

Damn it! It was not his fault he'd run off yesterday, it had all been his parents' fault. If they did not fight so much, Trunks would not have felt the need to escape the compound. With a sigh he rested his chin on his knees and stared at the window, watching the first rays of sun hitting the blue curtains.

Escape the compound. If only his parents would ease up on their rule of no going out on school nights. He would be able to just get away then whenever they were fighting. That would make a difference. It had made a difference last night. He would have just gone to sleep if his parents had not found out he'd left. But they _had_ found out so he'd had to leave again.

In the next room he could hear an alarm clock going off. That was Yamcha getting up then. He decided to get up as well. He had to get ready for school in any case. With a yawn he got out of bed and knelt by his schoolbag and clothes. Yamcha had lent him a pair of piyama's, which were too big for him, of course, but at least he would not be smelling like he'd slept in his clothes. He removed his night clothing and picked up his shirt, frowning for a second at the cut on his right sleeve. Right. The woman in the alley with the knife. He glanced at his arm, not surprised to see no more than a thin line. The blade had cut him, but he healed quickly. According to his father it was because he was saiyan.

What did it mean to be a saiyan anyways? He contemplated that while he got dressed. According to his father it meant strength, pride, honour. The words meant little to Trunks. Strength he could understand. He knew about sparring. He knew about battles. But pride? Honour? Those things were the very reasons his father always ended up fighting with his mother. If pride meant looking down on people all the time and if honour meant arguing with everyone about every little thing then he'd rather be human without all that complicated stuff.

But if he told his father that he was sure he'd just get himself into trouble. Of course, his own son rejecting his heritage would be a huge blow to the prince's precious pride.

Trunks had been proud once as well. His father had told him he was a prince, the first-born and therefore the heir to his kingdom. But there was no kingdom anymore. There was no people to lead. If there was no people, then what was the point of calling yourself a prince?

A knock on the door was followed by Yamcha coming in. "Hey, big guy." He greeted him. "I'll make you pancakes for breakfast and then I'll call to your home. Or you can call them yourself if you'd rather?"

Trunks shook his head. "I'd rather not call them."

"Alright, then I'll do it"

Yamcha was pretty cool that way, Trunks thought, watching the man leave. He didn't have to take Trunks in and put him up for the night, but he had done it. Trunks had definitely appreciated that.

Ten minutes later, Trunks was working on the stack of pancakes Yamcha had made for him. The older man was at the phone, dialling his home number. It rang a couple of times before it was answered.

"Bulma? Hey, this is Yamcha." There was a short silence in which Trunks figured his mother replied something. Yamcha answered "Things are fine here. Actually I'm calling to tell you that your son spent the night at my place."

"What?" Trunks flinched and almost choked on his piece of pancake when he heard his mother's voice. "He's been there? All night? And you DID NOT CALL ME?"

"Uh yeah," Yamcha laughed nervously. "He told me what happened and said you all needed some time to calm down."

"It is not for _him_ to decide when we need time to calm down!" His mother's voice clearly spoke through the telephone. "And it is definitely not your decision!"

This was not going good. Trunks looked at the pancakes that were still left, but he wasn't very hungry anymore. He watched Yamcha for another moment as the man tried to get an apology in-between, but his mother overruled him easily, telling him that she was coming right over to fetch her son. That was not good. He didn't want to face her just yet! So Trunks flung his bag over his shoulder and ran to the door. "I'm off!" He called, waving at Yamcha. "Just tell her I'll see her after school."

"Trunks, wait!"

But Trunks did not listen. He was already out the door and taking to the air. "Thanks for the bed and breakfast!"

-.-

When were you really a man? To the law it was when you were eighteen, then you could vote and drink and be trialled as a man. But it did not happen overnight like that. It wasn't like the night before your birthday you were still a child and then all of a sudden the night after that you were a man and you knew how to be responsible and stuff.

Trunks felt like he was a man, He'd fought alongside other men to save the world several times now and he had done pretty good. He was nowhere near as strong as his father or Goku, but he was already much stronger than either of them had been at his age. His father had not turned super saiyan until around the time that Trunks was born!

He thought he should qualify as a man. He was smart, he could make his own decisions and he had a good perception of how the world should be. If he were allowed to vote he was sure he would be able to make a good decision on who to vote for and he could take care of himself. He would have to show his parents that if he ever wanted them to take him seriously. He would have to let then know that he wasn't a child anymore and he could take care of himself, make his own decision. It really irked him that he wasn't even allowed to go out if he had school the next morning. Like he couldn't decide for himself if he was tired yet or not!

"Trunks, over here!" Goten knew he did not have to call out to him to help Trunks find him, but he always did anyway. That was just the kind of kid he was. Trunks took his tray over to the table his younger friend was already occupying and sat down.

"Heya, Goten."

The age difference meant that Goten was a grade behind Trunks. They did not share classes and they both had some different friend, but they often met up in lunch. They were always drawn towards each other. After all, who else in this building could possibly match either of them in strength? And fighting was a hobby they shared.

"I heard your mom called my mom last night." Goten said with his mouth full. "Did you really run away?"

"Yeah." Trunks answered simply. He did not know if he wanted to talk about this.

"Why?" Goten did not seem to notice. "What happened? My mom even searched my room even though it was really late. She only quit after having searched every inch and dad told her he didn't sense you there."

Trunks looked up in surprise at that. He hadn't thought they would search that thoroughly for him. Good thing he had not gone to Goten's place then. "I'm sorry." He said.

"Ah, no worries. I was barely asleep anyways." He took a gulp of his drink. "So, what happened?"

Trunks shrugged. "I got into a fight with my dad." He'd decided to settle for that since he'd told Yamcha the same.

Goten glanced at the tear in Trunks' shirt sleeve and nodded. "I see."

Trunks let the boy believe what he wanted.

"So, how mad were they when you went back home?"

"I haven't yet." Trunks answered casually. "I crashed at Yamcha's place."

"Really?" Goten asked. "And they just let you?"

"They didn't know until he called them this morning. I'll go home after school."

"Good luck with that." Goten answered. "I swear my mom would kill me if I stayed out all night without telling her!"

But Goten's mother did not have the strength to actually accomplish that and Goten's father would never react like that to his son. For Trunks it was another story, though. His mother was also not capable of actually killing him short of poisoning him which he was sure she would not do. But his father had the strength to do it and he was not as opposed to it as Goku was.

"Hey, do you remember your field trip to the art museum last year? Is it important? 'Cause if it's not I'm gonna ask my dad to write me a note so I won't have to go. That stuff's boring."

Gladly, Trunks let himself be distracted by his best friend.

* * *

><p>little princess<p>

Decided to keep Yamcha's thought out as nobody seemed very interested in it.


	6. The unavoidable

6: The unavoidable

"You're seriously in some deep, deep trouble, young man!" He'd barely set a foot inside and his mother was already on him like a hawk drawn to its prey. That was what he felt like now, prey. He'd stalled coming home as long as he'd dared, but he knew he had to face them sooner or later.

"Am I?" He knew he could not back down now. Things had to change around here. Trunks glared at his mother, avoiding to look at his approaching father. He could feel anger and impatience emanating from the saiyan prince and dared not look at him straight away. At the same time, though, he felt his own anger grow rapidly.

"You know the rules and you broke about every one of them last night!"

"So? They're _your_ rules that _you_ made up when I was a kid." Trunks told them. "I'm almost fourteen now and I'll be going to high school next semester. I'm old enough to have a say in the rules I live by."

He watched his father getting even more tense, but his mother seemed to actually listen for a change. "And what rules would you suggest, then?"

"Nine thirty is too early to go to bed." Trunks decided to start with. "I can decide for myself when I'm tired and how much sleep I need." He looked at his parents, but neither was speaking so he continued. "And I want to be able to go out on school nights, without having to tell you where I'm going." He crossed his arms and waited for them to speak.

His parents looked at each other and seemed to have a silent conversation before his mother replied "I'll agree to the bedtime thing _if_ you keep your grades up. But I don't like the idea of you hanging out wherever at night for however long you like. You're only thirteen."

"I'll be in high school soon." Trunks replied. "Nobody has to check with his mummy every time he wants to hang out with friends."

Bulma was about to fight him on that, but to her surprise and Trunks' Vegeta beat her to it. "You can go out on two school nights without telling us where you go." He said.

"When your punishment is over." Bulma added. "But you'll tell us _that_ you're going out and you'll be back by nine."

"Nine?" Trunks asked incredulous. "That's way too early. I shouldn't have to be home until eleven!"

Bulma looked at her son. She was not happy with letting him go out without her knowing where he went at all. "Ten." She offered finally. "Take it or leave it." She knew how to negotiate. Although she hadn't expected to be coming to that stage of his development so soon.

Trunks grumbled something, but he knew he wasn't going to get more out of this now. At least this gave him a chance to prove to his parents he was fine on his own. Besides, ten was still better than nine. "Fine." He'd try again after his birthday.

"What else?" His mother asked.

"I want money to buy my own clothes and stuff."

Surprisingly, his mother nodded at that. "I was expecting that sooner or later." She said. "We'll discuss the details another time because I want to show you some bills first."

Wow, that was easy. "Alright."

"Anything else you're displeased with?" It was Vegeta who spoke now and Trunks slowly turned to him.

"Yes." He was going to walk on thin ice now and he knew it, so he checked to be sure his ki was definitely below that of his father, then he took a deep breath and said with as much resolve as he could muster "You're not going to hit me anymore."

His mother's eyes widened, but his father's eyes narrowed instead. "You're a saiyan, boy!" He said tightly. "I'll be damned before I raise you like you're anything less."

Trunks' eyes narrowed to match those of his father. He knew this would be a crucial point. "I'm only half saiyan and we don't live on planet Vegeta, we live on planet earth."

"That is irrel-"

"It's illegal to hit your children here." Trunks continued. "I won't take it anymore. You can think of punishments that fit the human race if I do something wrong or I _will_ tell someone."

"Feh." Vegeta spat. "Like I would let any weak human take my kid away from me."

"You would if you wanted to keep living like this." Trunks replied. He'd been thinking this answer out last night. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you could get the company in if anyone got wind of the fact that Capsule Corp. allows child abuse?" He just wanted his father to keep his hands off them. Bra would be old enough soon for his father to start paying attention to her. He knew how he hated it every time the stronger man decided he had a beating coming and he wanted desperately to spare her the same hate.

"Are you threatening me now, brat?" Vegeta growled, but Bulma put a hand on her husband's arm, her other hand covering her mouth.

"I think he's right, Vegeta." She said quietly. "If he says he doesn't want it anymore then it has to stop."

"He's a saiyan!" His father told his mother, but Bulma shook her head.

"He's also human. Like you I thought he was okay with it since you're all so strong, but look at your son. He's completely serious about everything he said."

Trunks blinked at that. She had known what was going on. She'd seen it happen before and she had never once tried to stop it. Why would she be on his side now? He'd been sure she'd choose her father's side. She always did when his father said he wanted to raise his son at saiyan standards. What was different now?

Vegeta fully turned to her. "You're saying you choose your precious company over my way of raising my son, woman?"

"I'm saying I'm choosing my son's mental health and stability over the barbarian ways of a planet long dead." They both saw how his father's eye started twitching at that and for a moment Trunks thought he was going to explode, but his mother continued on quickly. "He's not asking you to stop all the other saiyan stuff you do, only that you don't use physical violence as a punishment anymore."

"Then what the hell am I supposed to do instead? Ground him?"

"For example." Bulma nodded. "Take away his computer and tv, make him write lines. Whatever he doesn't like to do will work just as well."

"He needs to feel it when he's gone too far or he'll never learn. If he doesn't like to feel physical pain then he had better behave."

"If he doesn't want to be locked in his room to be bored to death he will have to behave as well." His mother's voice was slightly raised now. "If he doesn't want his privileges like hanging out with friends taken away then he will behave as well."

His father still did not seem willing to give in. "And why is _your_ method allowed while _mine_ is all wrong, woman?" Trunks could feel a big fight coming up and he was starting to feel sorry he'd said anything. He didn't want to be the cause of even more fighting!

"Because _your_ way is making him hate you." Bulma told he husband.

"He's a teenager. They hate the whole world."

"But they're not scared of it. Not like he's scared of _you_."

"What?" Vegeta growled

His mother actually saw that? If she knew he was scared to death of his father sometimes then why had she not said something before?

"He told Yamcha he thought you were going to kill him for sure this time if he didn't give you time to cool down and Yamcha is no fool when he says he believes someone." Bulma answered, her voice too loud now to be classified as simply talking.

"You're trusting that scar-faced weakling on his word now, are you?"

"Yes I am!" His mother was shouting now. "Why the hell do you think your son is threatening you with child services, huh? If he wasn't afraid of you he wouldn't need to resort to such measures, you blindsided fool!"

Vegeta didn't answer. Instead he caught a glimpse of his son who was looking at the both of them with utter terror in his eyes. His parents were fighting now because of him. They were fighting because he'd told them he didn't want to be beaten anymore and the more their argument progressed the more certain he was his father was going to seriously hurt him and perhaps his mother as well. He'd attacked his father on his saiyan pride and that was always enough to warrant a beating. This time he was sure it was going to hurt so much!

His father still did not speak. Instead he was looking at Trunks as if he only saw him for the first time. Was this how he'd looked at his future version when he found out who he was? Trunks had heard the stories of what happened when he was just an infant.

Trunks took a careful step back, his whole body tense for the outburst he was sure was going to come, but his father just didn't move.

"You fear me."

Was is a question or a statement? Trunks swallowed and his ki dropped so low it was barely detectable. "N-no." Too much defiance. Even he could hear the lie in his answer.

Trunks and his mother both did not speak as Vegeta seemed to be thinking about a whole lot of things at once. The silence was thickening with tension but there was only one who would break it.

"Very well." His father had trouble speaking those words. "But you'd better accept whatever other punishment is handed out without complaint or I _will_ return to _my_ way." Trunks said nothing, but his mother visibly relaxed. "Do you have more demands to make?"

Trunks' mouth moved, but no sounds was coming out.

"Hmph, then get the hell out of my sight, brat!" Vegeta answered, seemingly having regained some of his pride. "And remember, you're grounded for a month."

Gladly, Trunks fled the room.

* * *

><p>little princess<p>

I'm not American so I don't know at what age high school starts exactly, but I figured it had to be at age 14 if you graduate when you're 18.

Also, this chapter was inspired by something I read in a magazine. A mother told how her son of about 13 suddenly decided to tell them he disagreed with their rules and wanted part in making them. And she realised that he was actually right. It is what inspired the whole story, because I could see Trunk do such a thing. For now this is the last chapter. I doubt I'll ever pick it up again but one should never say never.


End file.
